Checkmate
by Counterfeiting Shakespeare
Summary: Sometimes, analogy is the only way to go and get the proper perspective. A brown haired witch ponder the majesty of 'the king'. Ron and Hermione, post DH


_He he he, I just realized I am officially obsessed with Ron Weasley. Pairing kinda obvious what with my opening remark And I know this scenario have been done and written so many times it is actually cliché, but heh, what the hey right? _**XD** _Harry Potter not mine._

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**Checkmate**

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"Hermione." The way it was spoken, like it was a word he used the most, a sense of familiarity lacing the sound, the kind only a lover would be able to say …

She turned her head and saw him walking towards her, his tall frame filling her vision, that shock of red hair… those blue eyes.

It was odd, now that she thought about it, as a smile took hold of her lips and she found she could not help the flush of pleasure that turns her pink, that she forgot the most basic principle of playing chess: to a layman every piece was important, but it was the king that bears watching. One protects it from harm, because the king was the most 'fragile' piece. Lose the king and you lose the game.

This is why the king was almost always rarely moved. It is barricaded, because most people see it as incompetent to protect itself.

But used right, that seemingly disastrous and seemingly pathetic piece...

And once again she falls into the trap of analogy.

So many forget it takes a truly keen mind to play chess. Not creative, no, though that comes into play sometimes. A keen and observant mind, one both focused and indifferent was the key. Chess was not a game of chance, of luck. It was the accumulation of different openings, of attacks and counter attacks, of sacrifices and gambits. Of constantly thinking of when's and not if's; of knowing every when and not bothering with the if's.

So many thought that because Hermione was the one who always required books to come up with decisions, that she was the one who was grounded in practicality. Not so. She was like Harry – like many people, to be frank - who plots and plans with the if's of life. It was Ron who uses the when. And that was why, she suddenly understood, he became so frustrated with the lack of data from Harry that cold rainy night in the forest.

And because she had been subjected to his monologue about it, she also understood that while there were a lot of great fast plays out there, a true game takes a long time to be drawn out.

A true gem of a game was when the king finally moves.

Then came the excited thought that yes, _he_ did move…

He moved at last, after being so inactive the first time, knowing instinctively when to use the right 'when', knowing which 'when' to counter, knowing which 'when' to allow to pass. It took a while for him to do it, exhausted almost all the pieces, exhausted every possible action by those around him, before he himself took charge. But when he did, even she had to admit, he truly was kingly.

And thank Merlin she – _his queen –_ was finally present enough to see the subtlety of the play. This too was true, she marvelled. Almost every time he does something brilliant, she was rarely present, having to help The One, so that she gets the story second hand, diminishing the intensity of the action.

But that night, she was with him every step of the way…

He walked towards her in that loose limbed way of his, and before she could return a greeting of her own he was besides her, holding out a cup of steaming chocolate milk. He squinted at the stars above them, opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, then thought better of it and kept quiet instead.

He was near, but not near enough so they did not touch. That has not changed… he still seemed reluctant to hold her, despite the fact – despite _that _fact. She returned to her musings.

When the king moves, if one was a master of the game playing with another master, there is tension and a sudden drawing of breath as anticipation rises. When the king moves, a power shift occurs and new tactics develop. Old plans must be put to rest, new ploys required to win. Because when a king is moved, the opponent realizes some rare play is going to be used, something hard to counter and he searches his mind for a counter attack, sometimes more than one.

Unless the opponent is ignorant of the rules of the game and dismisses the action.

Beginners and mediocre players tend to use the queen a lot, so that _she _dances the length and width of the board. They keep their eyes trained on _her _so that at times, the game seems more about capturing _her_, or making _her_ immobile than about holding the king at bay. To those that understood that there is power in one simple move, their eyes always watch the king.

And she knew, even Harry had overlooked _him. _Just as I did, she honestly told herself. Which was why when he did move, it shocked her silly to the point she felt like bursting…_I can say you are my cousin…teach you about the family tree…_

_HERMIONE! HERMIONE!_

The silence stretched between them and he started squirming, enough to break her out of her reverie. Ron, she thought with a hint of amusement, simply cannot stay still. She placed the cup down, and looked at him from the corner of her eyes. _…I know how to destroy the cup…_

He was looking right back at her. …_we don't want another Dobby_….

Oh yes, when _he _did move, she pretty much lost it, didn't she? But then, who could blame her?

"I need to know," she said at length, "how you stay quiet when you play."

He raised one brow, and answered. "I have no clue what you are talking about, Hermione."

No, she supposed not. And to be fair, his confusion made sense, seeing he just got there himself and was not privy to her thoughts. But he spoke with such a bemused expression on his face that she couldn't help it. Her laughter fairly echoed and the whole area around the burrow hushed to listen to that gay sound. It has been so quiet there of late…

When her amusement finally died down and she was able to look at him with a straight face again, she saw he was in between irritated and amused. Well, she could fix that…

The kiss lasted for about ten seconds, and when it was over, he was no longer so near yet far, and was in fact holding her body close to him, one hand gently cradling her cheeks. He no longer looked irritated or amused. Rather, there was a dreamy expression on his face, a pleased dazedness that caused her to blush all over again.

He gently moved her so that she found herself seating with her back in contact with his chest, those long legs capturing her in between. His arms were around her, warm, and strong and she was so pleased with the contact that she almost turned around again and kiss him.

But she knew better now. Hadn't she just been contemplating about this?

_when the king moves…_

"That _eejit_ is walking around trying to act like everything is normal," he said, the deep tone of his voice muffled because he was kissing her hair. She almost didn't connect what he was saying, lost in the pleasure of what he was doing.

She gave herself a mental shake and asked tentatively. "You mean George?"

A moment of silence, and she heard him sigh. "Yeah… him."

She looked up then, twisting her body so she could see his face. The sullen expression was there, and a hint of defiance lurking in that sapphire gaze. She wasn't going to ask what he was going to do about it. Pushed, he becomes defensive, even if he knew it was for the wrong reasons. That was who he was, and she has to learn to accept that.

When he saw she would not ask, a softening came to his eyes. "Mum and the rest… they'll help him. I know they will." He once again shifted her so that both were watching the stars instead of each other. It would have irked her before, except she understood him better now. He tried to joke about the situation and she let him, knowing him enough to know deep down he mourned, and mourned deeply. "The family kinda loves him that way. Maybe Charlie and Billie would get him knackered… I dunno really."

"Not you then?"

She was kind of afraid to hear the answer. Afraid what he might say. There were times when Ron truly seemed to lack sympathy, simply ploughing ahead, saying whatever comes to his head. Sometimes she truly feels torn with the desire to slap him or kiss him when he was like that. But then, who was she to talk? Argued her self conscience. She's no model of sensitivity either. She still wince when she remember the famous lines: _"Oh, Harry, I knew it would be you!"_ after seeing the prefect badge…

He answered so decisively, with such assurance, she felt like crying. "I'd like to, naturally, but I'll be with you by then." His arms tightened and she couldn't breathe. She realized kiss was the winner and hugged his arms tighter to her body. "Finding your parents and stuff."

She almost couldn't speak out her next question. Maybe it was selfish of her, but it felt good to be first choice and she wanted to weep in relief to know she was that important.

"You don't mind?"

The answer, she wasn't sure if it was his 'once' intuition working again, that rare gift of _seeing_ that so very few have and those that do possessed it posses only enough that they do not See as deeply as Professor Trelawny.

Again his muffled voice, but this time it was because he was kissing her temple, slowly making his way to her lips, his body bent just so that he could access her lips in a more comfortable angle. "It was never a question of if, Hermione…" here a kiss on her cheeks, salty because of the tears. Her tears, to be exact. He paused long enough to make a soothing sound before he went for the final prize. "- but a question of when."

She heard youth in that voice. She also heard truth.

And despite the fact she was occupied, her mind once again returned to her previous ideas.

She saw (as if it was a game laid out before her) it almost as an action carried out long before it would be executed: A 'when' being moved into position. And even though she can't predict the future, she also understood that her future would be 'attacked' by a lot of such 'when'.

Maybe there would be draws, and yes, maybe there would be forfeits from him as well, like so many in the past, but it would not matter, not in the long run. Because all those would be when's as well. When's manoeuvred to become his pawns, his knights, his bishops.

She kissed, he kissed.

_Checkmate._

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-end-

**O.o** _I have zero clue if that made sense, ehehe… but I think it has potential, don't you?_ **XD** _I might rewrite this again to give it more sense, but I do hope you guys enjoyed it…. Beta read by Terry… now, if I can just send another story to Lizzie and (Lady) Katherine (HP and Sailor Moon respectively) I'm all set._

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